Lindsay's breathing seemed to stop. She gripped the phone tighter.
'Luckily he was too drunk to connect,' Daniel told her. 'I was his fist coming, side-stepped, and he fell fiat on his face.'
'Oh, no!' Lindsay gasped. 'Poor Aston… is he hurt?'
'Providence looks after drunks,' said Daniel without apparent sympathy. 'He passed out, but I didn't see any injuries, and luckily my Swedish friends took it as a joke, they thought he'd taken an instant dislike to me because he was stoned.'
'Where is he now?'
'Home, I'd imagine—I called my driver over and sent him home in my car.' He paused. 'Then I rang you to make sure you were safely home. You told him, I presume?'
'Yes,' she said very quietly.
'Took it badly, did he?'
'Damn you,' Lindsay muttered, her voice shaking. 'Mind your own business!'
'Was there a scene?' Daniel asked. 'He didn't hurt you, did he?' He sounded icily harsh, and she hated him.
'Go to hell,' she said, and hung up. She crawled down into the bed and pulled the sheet over her head, but although she kept her eyes tightly shut she could not shut out the pictures Daniel had conjured up for her. Poor Aston! She hated herself, she hated Daniel, and most of all she hated knowing that she had hurt Aston so much that he had gone off to drink himself insensible; She knew how he felt, she wished she could do the same, but she would only be sick if she tried to drink enough to stop her mind from working.
She closed her hands around her head, rocking to and fro in the bed on her knees, like a demented woman. Her mind was her real problem, it wouldn't stop working, telling her home truths she didn't want to hear. Her body was always on Daniel's side—if her mind would only stop interfering, she could forget pain, give in to the heated necessity in her flesh and be oblivious of everything else. She felt like banging her head on a wall until her mind gave up.
Over the next few days she was grateful for the fact that she was too busy to have time to think. The office was hectic, Chris even did some work himself, but he did so with more vigour when the managing director was around. Charles rarely appeared on their floor, he normally summoned Chris to his own much plushier suite, but he was taking a great interest in their campaign to find 'The Face'. Chris's original brainwave had been enlarged—they were launching their new range at the same time as their highly publicised competition to find the perfect girl to represent Vivons, and both newspaper and television advertisements would feature a large cut-out silhouette of a girl's head without features, only a question mark and the words: Are You The Face?
'Clever,' said Charles, nodding approval. He looked at Lindsay. 'He's a genius, isn't he?'
'A genius,' Lindsay agreed, but when he had gone she eyed Chris with wry amusement. 'Stop preening, you look like a half-witted peacock!'
He laughed, then looked at her hard. 'And you look like a ghost—not sleeping? You haven't looked too good all week. Does Daniel Randall keep you awake all night? All play and no work, remember.'
'I work,' Lindsay said. 'A damned sight harder than you…'
'It was a joke, a joke,' Chris protested, pretending to be alarmed, holding up both hands as though she might hit him.
'Not a very funny one,' she told him, and he sighed and hung his head.
'No, ma'am, sorry, ma'am, I beg your pardon, ma'am.'
'Oh, get lost,' Lindsay said without heat, and stormed off back to her own office to regret losing her temper over nothing. What was the matter with her? As if she didn't know!
That evening she called in to see Alice and found her very busy cooking Stephen's dinner while Matt and Vicky called plaintively down the stairs for drinks of water. 'They ought to be asleep,' Alice said distractedly, tasting the homemade chicken soup and hesitating about the flavour. 'Is there enough salt in that?' she asked, and Lindsay lifted the ladle and sipped, nodding.
'Plenty, it's delicious.'
'I used the carcase,' said Alice, replacing the saucepan lid. 'Why don't you stay? There's more than enough for three.' 'I'd have loved to, but…'
'Date?' Alice asked, and Lindsay nodded, smiling at her, although it was a lie, she didn't have a date, she was simply afraid to talk to her brother for long in case she said too much about Daniel..
'Aston, I suppose?' Alice asked, and Lindsay hesitated, biting her lip.
'Well, no.' Matt's footsteps padded down the stairs and Alice made a wrathful face.
'Back to bed,' she yelled, then looked at Lindsay curiously. 'Who are you seeing tonight?' Her face brightened. 'Daniel?' She stared hard, smiling. It is, isn't it? I knew it, I told Stephen so, I guessed from the minute he walked in here that night. If he wasn't still mad about you, he wouldn't have hared over here the minute that reporter told him you were in trouble.'
'Mummy,' Matt said at the door, 'can we…'
'I thought I told you to stay in bed? Do you want a smack?'
'No,' said Matt, not surprisingly. He advanced to twine himself round Lindsay's leg, hugging her waist. 'Auntie, tell us a story. We're not sleepy, come and tell us a story, we like your stories, you haven't told us one for ages and ages.'
Lindsay hoisted him up, groaning exaggeratedly. 'Heavens, you're getting heavy! What does your mummy feed you on? Elephant steaks?'
'Take no notice of him,' Alice said crossly. 'He should be asleep, they both should. I put them to bed dead on six, it gets later every night. I can't wait for the autumn, these summer evenings drag on and on.'
'Just a quick story, then,' said Lindsay, carrying Matt up the stairs. 'I've got to rush, you know, I didn't come round to tell you two stories.' She slid him into his bed and Vicky peered at her through the cot bars, her nose pink in the half-light. Lindsay bent to kiss her on it and Vicky wriggled, chuckling. Lindsay got her to lie down, tucked the cover over her and sat on Man's bed while she told them a slow version of The Three Bears. Vicky sucked her thumb, eyes half shut. She was quite ready to go off to sleep, it was Matt who was keeping her awake.
When Lindsay got back downstairs Stephen was in the kitchen, sipping a glass of gin and tonic which Alice had given him. He grinned at her. 'Kids asleep?'
'Vicky is—Matt is still full of beans. It's time he had a room of his own, isn't it?'
'You may, be right,' said Alice, nodding. 'Drink, Lindsay?'
'No, I must go. See you both soon.' As she walked away Stephen said: 'I'll give you a lift home,' and although she tried to refuse he insisted. 'It won't take me ten minutes,' he said, and Alice joined him in persuading Lindsay to agree. It was obvious that Stephen wanted to talk about Daniel, and Lindsay was reluctant to do that, but she had no choice but to give in to their combined pressure. At the moment, Daniel was their favourite person, Stephen knew how much he owed Daniel and he wanted to impress on his sister that Daniel was a terrific guy. It wasn't selfish of him, it was only human. Stephen had been overwhelmed by Daniel's rescue operation and he wanted to show his appreciation. He thought Daniel was doing it for Lindsay's sake and Stephen was very fond of his sister, he would do a lot for her himself. He already had, Stephen was an unselfish, loving man with a strong sense of family and a deep sense of responsibility. He had placed his own interpretation on what Daniel was doing. Stephen knew that in Daniel's place he would be acting out of love, and it had made it much easier for Stephen to accept Daniel's help since he worked out why Daniel was doing it. He wanted Lindsay to be kind to Daniel, he made that as clear as crystal.
'I feel as if a great load was off my mind,' he told her as he drove her back to her flat. 'It was unbearable, knowing there was no way out. I've never felt so desperate in my life. I was going crazy!'
She listened, her face sombre. 'I'm glad things have worked out,' she said, and Stephen quickly said: 'Thanks to Daniel, he's being terrific. He's already paid off the bank, and his accountants are working to get the business back on a good footing.'
'You will be careful,' Lindsay said hesitantly. 'Daniel is a tough businessman, he'll expect a profit.'
'Don't sell yourself short,' Lindsay said crossly. The car stopped outside the flats and she turned and kissed him lightly. 'You're not a bad brother,' she said with a slightly crooked grin.
Neither of them was over-demonstrative. Stephen grinned and looked uneasy. 'Thanks.' He was a grown man. with two children of his own, but for a second or two he looked like a pink schoolboy. Hurriedly he said: 'And thanks for being so good to Alice. She was worried sick, I know. I wish to heaven I hadn't put her through that—believe me, I wasn't myself, I'd never have done that to her otherwise.'
'She knows that, we both do.' Lindsay gave him a little punch, smiling. 'So stop apologising, buster. You don't need to, nobody blames you.'
'I do,' Stephen said soberly. 'Alice was as mad as hell for a while, but she's come out of that now. I should have told her—she's right. I just wanted to protect her, I wasn't trying to insult her by keeping her in the dark. I'll never keep anything from her again.' He gave Lindsay a wry grin. 'I didn't know Alice could be so belligerent—she threw things at me, imagine that! I was dumbfounded. Alice! She never even raised her voice to me before.'
Lindsay laughed. 'It sounds as though your marriage is going to be more exciting in future! Let's hope she doesn't take boxing lessons, that's all.' She got out of the car and waved to him as he drove away, then went into the building slowly.
She was tired, she would have a bath and an early night. The flat was dark and empty, and she stood in the little corridor listening to the silence, hating it. It was absurd, she could have stayed with Stephen and Alice that evening and relaxed in a warm, family atmosphere, but she had insisted on coming back here to be alone and now she was feeling lonely and abandoned, she was wallowing in self-pity, How stupid could you get?
She had her bath, soaking herself in warm, luxurious water generously sprinkled with rose-scented bath crystals, lying back listening to the radio with closed eyes, occasionally wiggling a foot to make the water swish around her body, and now and then sipping a glass of Martini. She wasn't in a hurry, she had nowhere to go.
It wasn't until the water was almost cold that she reluctantly stepped out of the bath, dried herself lightly and slid into a robe. She rubbed the mist off the steamy mirror, and peered at her reflection; she looked pink and clean, her red hair curling in the steam, her eyelashes clustered damply. Making a disgusted face at herself, she wandered off to the kitchen to get herself a snack. She looked into the fridge and didn't fancy anything she saw. In the end she fell back on scrambled eggs and toast, but just as she was beating the eggs with a fork the doorbell rang and her hand jerked in surprise.
Aston? She hesitated, biting her lip, not sure if she felt up to facing him tonight, and while she stood there trying to make up her mind the bell rang again with a sharp, peremptory note. Clutching the lapels of her terry-towelling robe, she opened the front door a fraction, looking through the gap warily. Daniel looked back at her, his mouth indented impatiently. He didn't say anything and after a moment Lindsay fell back and let him walk into the flat. She closed the door and leaned on it weakly, her pulses accelerating;
The cold, empty flat was suddenly alive; she was alive, too. Daniel stared at -her and smiled suddenly in a way that made her tremble, and then sent a wave of pure rage through her at her own folly. He was looking pleased with himself, his eyes touched her, lingering, and she knew what he was thinking, there was a quality of satisfaction, complacency, in that smile. He thought he had got her, in a moment he was going to kiss her, his lean body was poised to make a move, and she resented every inch of him.
'I'm tired,' she said coldly. 'I've had a difficult day and I'm in no mood to deal with you, Daniel, so whatever you've got to say, say it and go, please.'
He lost the smile and the grey eyes cooled and hardened; anger came from him in icy waves. 'Don't talk to me like that! I won't stand for it!'
Lindsay dug her hands into her robe pockets, hunching her slender shoulders in a shrug, angrily enjoying the new tension in his face. He had come here tonight with one thing on his mind; she had known that the minute she set eyes on him, but he could think again, she wasn't going to be the push-over he expected. She had some self-respect—not much, she thought grimly, but some!
'If it isn't important, could it wait? Ring me tomorrow,' she said, calmly opening the door.
Daniel charged towards it, his wide shoulders tense under the smooth grey suit he wore, his face harsh, every line of it set fiercely in rage. Lindsay hurriedly got out of his way; she had the feeling he might knock her down and trample on her if she didn't.
The door slammed with a violence that made the fiat echo, but Daniel hadn't left, he was still on her side of that door, and Lindsay gulped in alarm as he turned a menacing glare on her.
'Now!' he said without any hint of a smile anywhere, and her heart dived down with sickening dismay as he moved towards her.
CHAPTER TEN
'Keep your hands off me,' she stammered, backing against the wall and Daniel advanced remorselessly, pinning her into the corner. He put a hand on either side of her, his face inches away, a grim, shadowy mask she watched nervously, her eyes very wide and alert to every move he made. She wasn't expecting what he did say, it took her totally by surprise.
'Why did you leave me?' The question had explosive force in it, his voice was harsh, he held her stare fixedly, refusing to let her look away.
'I… I'm not going over old history,' Lindsay said in a shaky little voice, wishing he wouldn't stand, so close, his nearness was doing drastic things to her heartbeat.
'Oh, yes,' he said, 'you are. I want to know.'
'Too bad,' she muttered, looking down to escape that hypnotic stare and his hand came up to grab her chin and force her face upwards. Her lashes flickered uneasily, she moistened her dry mouth with her tongue-tip. 'If you manhandle me…' she began, and Daniel laughed shortly.
'What will you do, Lindsay? Hit me? I told you what would happen if you ever hit me again.'
'Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? That turns you on, does it? I didn't have you down as a man who got his kicks from hitting women, but it figures. Force is all you understand!'
'I sure as hell don't understand you,' he said bitterly.
'Have you ever tried?' she threw back, and the grey eyes flashed.
'I'm trying now, in case it had escaped your notice.' His hand came down on her wrist, locking it tightly in a vice; he turned and walked into the sitting-room, pulling her after him, struggling to break free. Daniel sat down on the couch and yanked her down to him, she tumbled helplessly across him and before she could sit up his arm clamped over her so that she lay on his lap, her head on the arm of the couch. Her hair escaped from the pins holding it and flew in all directions, a damp sweet-smelling cloud of fiery red-gold, a few strands drifting across her eyes. Daniel brushed them back, she felt his fingertips lightly touch her lids and shivered.
'Try again,' he said softly. 'Why did you leave me?'
'I was sick of sitting around at home while you made it with other women,' Lindsay said viciously, angry again because she knew her body was throbbing with a deep, aroused, erotic heat. Daniel had her at a disadvantage, she couldn't get up, she couldn't get away from his dangerous proximity without a humiliating struggles and he was far too close, she could feel his body warmth under her back, she could see the faint blue vein in his neck where his blood beat under that brown skin.
His brows came together. 'What?'
'Did you think I wouldn't guess what kept you
out so late night after night?' She sneered, laughing angrily. 'I may have been young, but I wasn't that stupid!'
'I was working,' he said, staring at her, and she laughed again without any humour.
'Oh, sure. And I bet you worked hard, too.'
Daniel was staring at her as though he didn't know her, and she wasn't surprised; she didn't know herself, her jealousy was blackening everything she saw, her face was hot with rage and her voice had the sting of a scorpion. She had hidden her jealousy for so long, now that it was escaping she couldn't control it.
'You thought I had other women?' Daniel sounded incredulous, if she hadn't known better she would have thought his blank expression held innocence, but she did know better. He was acting and doing it brilliantly, but he couldn't fool her.
'I didn't just think,' she said bitingly. 'I knew! Someone was getting your attention, it certainly wasn't me. When we first got married you made love to me every night,, then everything changed— some weeks you didn't even kiss me, let alone make love to me! I might as well have been a piece of furniture for all the notice you took.'
'You never said a word,' he protested. 'You didn't tell me you suspected I was having an affair.'
Lindsay curled an icy smile at him. 'Where was the point? You'd either have lied or admitted it— either way, I didn't want to get into that sort of discussion. I was humiliated enough already.'
'So you were judge and jury, you found me guilty without even telling me what I was supposed to be guilty of…' He sounded hoarse, little spots of dark red had come up in his face and his mouth was unsteady. Lindsay felt nervous as she looked up at him, she shifted uneasily.
'You stupid brat,' Daniel muttered, and his hand shot out to curl round her throat. She tensed, her nerves jumping with fear, 'I ought to…' He broke off again, swallowing, she saw his throat move convulsively, 'Not even to ask me! My word, your opinion of me must have been rock bottom! You couldn't even be bothered to talk about it, you went around secretly accusing me and didn't utter a syllable.' His hand tightened and she flinched. He saw the fear in her face and his lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl. 'Yes, you're right to look nervous! The way I feel at the moment I might just lose my temper and give you what you deserve!'
The Sex War Page 13
